


Grooming is Good for the Soul

by sageclover61



Series: Houses of the Holy [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mentions of suicidal Sam Winchester, Subspace, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 14:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: Lucifer hadn't liked being in Sam's head. Not even a little bit. And the things he'd seen there were not the kinds of things he wanted to continue thinking about, so of course he went to Michael to fix it. Who else could he trust to do that?





	Grooming is Good for the Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place from when Lucifer leaves at the end of the first fic in this series, Houses of the Holy. Lucifer is naked from the start, and he can be assumed to have taken the appearance of Mark without actually having required any vessel.
> 
> Warnings for Lucifer's poor reactions to having been in Sam's head. There's discussion of how he didn't exactly consent to Sam forcing Lucifer to possess him and it is kind of equated to possible mind rape. Also, Lucifer believes (not without good reason) that Sam is passively suicidal and this is also discussed.

_ “Michael’s upstairs. You should go… take care of that.” _

Maybe Lucifer should have argued more, wanted to stay and talk to the mother he hadn’t seen in millenia. But he wanted to reconnect with Michael more.

Sam’s head had not been a happy place, and he honestly wanted to have some fun with Michael so he didn’t have to think about how bad it had been.

Sam had essentially insisted Lucifer possess him as a  _ suicide attempt  _ and Lu didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about being selected as a murder weapon. The human had honestly believed that it would be okay for the archangels to have their Lu back and for himself to  _ what? Simply fade away?  _ And he hadn’t really waited for Lucifer to decide,  _ consent  _ to possessing Sam. And yet, had Sam even really been consenting?

Who had mind raped who?   
  
“Lu? Are you okay?”

Lucifer blinked at Michael, lip quivering. Muscle memory he didn’t have yet had led him to the only one who could  _ really  _ comfort him, make him forget.

He hadn’t even gotten to what Raphael had done to Sam. There’d be consequences, but he wasn’t ready to think about that yet either.

“Fuck me?” he asked, begged, stepping forward until he came to where Michael was lying naked on a bed.

He laid down, seeking,  _ needing  _ closeness with the eldest flock member.

The personalities of them and their siblings had allowed for a changing dynamic in who was dominant over someone else, but Michael was the one he could allow dominance over him.

He was the only one willing to give Raphael what he needed,  _ Mi and Gabe had made that abundantly clear _ , and Gabe liked pain more than anything else, which only left Michael.

“Is that what you need?” Michael asked. He was patient, waiting. Lucifer would spell out what he needed or nothing would happen.

“Sam-” Lucifer didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t know what to say. He swallowed. “Make me forget?”

Michael kissed his forehead. “Should we talk about it?”

Lucifer sighed. “I don’t want to, but maybe later? I want you to, for the moment, make me forget. Remind me what I’ve been missing out on?”

“What we’ve all been missing out on.” Michael kissed Lucifer again. “How would you like me to fuck you?”

“Your choice,” Lucifer answered. He didn’t want to have to decide, he just wanted to bask in the sensations of whatever Michael decided without having to choose or think. He just wanted to  _ feel _ .

Michael considered, and then pressed a kiss to Lucifer’s shoulder. “Let me see your pretty wings, Sweetheart.”

Lucifer closed his eyes and unfurled his wings. He didn't want to look at them and see the damage the cage had caused.

They hadn't been groomed since before Amara had been locked away and God had banned all things pleasurable.

Michael gasped. " _ Sweetheart. _ "

Lucifer didn't look. He wasn't going to. He could smell the sulfur and feel the itchy patches of burnt and signed feathers and sinew. They should have hurt, but he'd gotten used to it so they didn't anymore.

"Should I let Raphael heal them?" Michael asked.

" _ No _ ." He shook, and his hands grasped at Michael's wrist. He took a deep breath, trying to fight back against the irrational panic about to rise at the thought of Raphael seeing him like this.

A warm kiss was pressed against his forehead. "It's okay, Sweetheart, it's okay. I apologize for suggesting it, I should have realized." Michael kissed him again. "Why don't you tell me what you do want."

"You."

Michael huffed, but he didn't press for more details. "I love you," he whispered with another kiss, this one to his other shoulder. "Safeword?" he prompted.

"I won't need it," Lucifer insisted.

Michael bit his ear. "Your safeword, or I go play with our brothers instead of with you." Michael prodded one of his oil glands gently. "I know what you want, but I need to know that you can put an end to it if this gets to be too much." Michael's fingers drifted through the least injured part of his feathers and he arched into it. "Please, Sweetheart? This could hurt you a lot and I know pain isn't really your thing."

Lucifer bit his lip and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Green, yellow, red," he said finally. "I don't remember my old safeword, from before everything fell apart, and I neither want to hear it from your lips or try to pick a new one right now."

"I'll allow it," Michael agreed. "But only for right now." He carefully massaged another oil gland. "Are you ready, Little Light?"

"Green," Lucifer agreed, thinking that's what Michael was looking for.

Michael pressed a kiss against a bald spot in Lucifer's primary feathers. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Lucifer didn't want to open his eyes and risk seeing the terrible mess of the wings that had once been gorgeous and that he had once been incredibly vain about. But he also knew that Michael wanted to see him and needed to be able to gauge how he was doing if he went deep enough to go nonverbal.

"You can just look at me, Sweetheart," Michael promised as Lucifer slowly opened his eyes. "There you are, my beautiful Light. I want to wash your wings first, you have dirt and ash and sulfur in them. Is that okay?"

"Yes, please," Lucifer whispered.

Michael nodded, and a moment later a slight scent of lemongrass filled the air. "It's a mild soap so it shouldn't irritate your skin too much, I hope the scent isn't too annoying?"

"It's a pleasant smell, thank you."

It wasn't a scent he could remember from their games in Heaven, and he was glad Michael had made that choice. He wasn't ready to face the memories of the good and the bad before the cage or the present. He just wanted a moment to relax before he had to deal with the consequences of the present.

A warm and wet washcloth was brushed against the feathers at the far edge of his wings, and it took everything he had not to jerk in shock. It was an unfamiliar pleasant feeling. After so long of having nothing but pain and unpleasant feelings in his wings, it was hard to lie still and let anyone touch.

Even if he trusted his Mi more than anyone else in the universe.

"It's okay," Michael soothed. Fingers ran along the edges of his feathers, straightening them and offering him a sensation of safety.

He inhaled the scent of lemongrass and tried to focus on the warm water on his wings. He was warm, he was safe, Michael could be trusted to take care of him and had never failed him before.

Lucifer stretched his toes, trying to mentally lose himself into Michael's ministrations. There was a very light tugging sensation and the feeling of one of his feathers coming loose, but it didn't hurt.

"What's your color?" Michael asked quietly.

"Green," Lucifer answered, almost without thought. He was comfortable and the feathers Michael had finished cleaning felt so nice.

There was more brushing of his feathers and the occasional tugging of particularly stubborn feathers had him whining. It didn’t outright hurt, not like it would have if Mi had done it first, but he didn’t want to focus or think about that.

He didn’t quite feel floaty, but it was close. Their wings were sensitive and Michael was being so careful with him.

Michael came back into focus above his head and brushed a thumb under his eyes. “I’m here, Lu,” Mi said. “I’m right here.”

He was crying, but he didn’t feel like he was crying. Michael stroked his sides, and the joints where his wings were connected to his body. “Can you tell me what you need?” It wasn’t a demand, it wasn’t even anything more than a request of capacity.

“Hold me?” Lu managed. He wanted to be touched and held and he didn’t want the feeling of warmth to go away.

“Of course, Sweetheart.” Michael moved him gently so that he could lie on him without applying any pressure on his wings.

Lu drifted, no real presence of mind as Michael finished quickly washing his wings.

Some infinite amount of time later he was blinking to find Michael curled up in his side, fingers dancing across his wings.

"Mi?"

"Hey, Sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

Lucifer yawned. "Good tired. Thirsty."

A straw found its way into his mouth and he sipped the sweet juice inside. 

"Do you feel up to talking about Sam and why you were so upset? It's okay if you don't, I just want to make sure that you're okay and that it doesn't fester."

Lucifer pushed the cup away and reached for Michael. "Sam-" he swallowed, shuddering, dug claws into the part of Michael he was clinging to desperately. "He said yes so insistently to being my vessel that I couldn't even decide for myself if  _ I _ wanted that. And his  _ mind _ ." He shuddered again. "He's faced so much pain and suffering and agony, is it any surprise he's suicidal?"

"Lu-"

"No.  _ Listen _ . He thought that display of dominance from Raph was  _ malicious _ . Intended to show him exactly what he didn't deserve, could never have,  _ shouldn't want _ . And he thought… he still thought you lot  _ deserved to have me back even at the cost of his own life. _ And how is that supposed to make me feel? Huh, Mi? I don't want to be a fucking  _ murder weapon _ ." He was shaking and he couldn't see Michael through the tears, but he didn't care.

Michael pulled Lucifer into a hug. "I'm here, Sweetheart. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."

Lucifer sobbed and Michael held him.

"Raph deserves your anger, but please don't do something you'll both regret."

"He deserves a good hide tanning," Lucifer mumbled.

"And he'll probably agree. But not while you're angry." Michael pressed a kiss to Lucifer's forehead. "Take a nap with me, Sweetheart." 


End file.
